Watchmen Of Tomorrow
by imaninja41
Summary: Jon made a mistake years ago, and that mistake was killing Rorschach. There's a new threat on the horizon, and Jon refuses to cheat Walter out of his death. Comedian is gone, Dan and Laurie are retired. The Watchmen are no more. They need The Watchmen, but more than The Watchmen. They need a second generation, just like the first, but better. Can these kids really save the world?
1. Graveyard Fence

You can say most anything you want about Rorschach, and more often than not, it would probably be true. You could call him a criminal, and you'd be right. You could call him a hero, and you'd be right. You could say that he was crazy, and you'd be right. You could say he was the only one of them who wasn't crazy, and you'd be right.

Like I said, you can say just about anything about Rorschach, but there's one thing you can't say. One thing I will never let you say about the man. You can't say he was a bad father.

You're probably laughing right now, thinking, he wasn't a Father, of course he couldn't be a bad one since he wasn't one at all. That's where you're wrong. He was a Father, but on the day that civilians considered to be one of the happiest, and saddest days of history, the day the whole world united because of fear of Dr. Manhattan, he didn't know it. Neither did any of his friends, his team, except one.

You might say that this is stupid, it's rubbish, and complete lies, just like they said when they first read the journal that got published in the paper. But eventually, they came around, and Adrian's empire crumbled. Strangely enough, no one ever went back to the idea of nuclear war. Why? Because they realized that if they did, they would all die. So they kept up with the masquerade, trying to ignore Adrian's wrong, and just work with what they had. Guess what? It actually worked.

I love that fact that although Dr. Manhattan killed Rorschach, in the end, Rorschach still won. He still got them, and they looked like complete losers. Rorschach made the smartest man in the world look like a complete and utter idiot. I tip my hat to him, one psycho to another.

I'm getting off topic, and you must be thinking, if Rorschach knew about this kid he supposedly had, would he still have wanted to die? Would he have still shouted out the two words that defined his child's life? "Do it!"

I've thought it over, and based on everything I've ever heard about him, and my surprising own experience with him, I've come to a sudden realization. Yes he would have.

You can call me inconsiderate, or cruel even. Tell me that it's easy for me to say that, but to that kid, it could really do some emotional damage. You know what I would say right back to you? "Shut up and leave me alone, hypocrite."

If you leave around here, in New York, you're a hypocrite by saying that. Answer me honestly, how many screams of help have you heard in your life? Even better, how many of those cries for help have you run after to answer, or even just called the cops to handle it? You can either answer that question, or just back off.

I have a right to say that it doesn't matter, that it wouldn't have helped in any way. You know why? Cause I am that kid. That kid who got left alone, forgotten, no, not even discovered.

Don't start to feel pity, or even, much less, empathy. I like it better this way

You can't look back at the past, and just keep wondering, what if? It'll only either give you, a headache, or heartache. Maybe even both. Kind of wish I could say that if he hadn't died, I would have turned out okay. That he would have gone back to my mother, and discovered it. Maybe not have been a husband to her, that I could handle, but he would have at least looked after me. Not let most of the things that happened to me, happen.

But if I look back at it, I wouldn't change a thing, even if I could. If I hadn't been born to only a Mom, and all the things I had seen on the streets, done on the streets, hadn't happened, I can almost guarantee I'd be dead. Really, you would be too. Everyone around you would be dead, maybe the entire Earth.

Yeah, I'm that important, I've saved your life. Can I get a thank you? You know what, forget it, I didn't do it for a thank you, and I didn't do it for you. To this day I don't know why I did it, or who I did it for. I just did it.

I'd like to think Rorschach is proud I did it. That he would have done the same thing. I'll admit it, and I'm not ashamed of this fact: I'm chasing after a dead man's trench coat, in hopes of donning it myself one day.

That's one of the reasons that I'm writing this down, because he wrote down his story. I'll send this in to be published in the Newspaper too. Because people need to know.

The Comedian died, the world knew him as Edward Blake, but his friends knew better. He was killed in what looked like a robbery, but what Rorschach knew was the beginning of a hunt.

So, wanting that information, he talked to the one person that Eddie left behind, his son, Johnson Blake.

Rorschach kneeled in front of the five year old boy, grimacing behind his mask. Kids were never his specialty. He hadn't had to many experiences with them. "Where were you when your dad died?"

The little boy looked up at him, fear clearly seen on his face. "In my bedroom."

"Did you hear anything?"

The boy looked like he was reliving exactly what he had heard. "Yes. Everything."

"The man who attacked your father." Rorschach pressed, "Did you hear him talk?"

"No." The boy croaked, about to cry, as tears pooled up.

"Did your father say anything?"

"He said… that it was all a joke." John whispered, a single tear running down his face. "I heard the glass break, and I screamed. I ran out into the living room, and there was a man standing there."

"What did he look like?" Rorschach asked.

"I didn't see." The boy said, "He covered his face."

This got him nowhere, all it did was make him feel sick to his stomach, and sorry for the little boy as his tear flowed. Eddie wasn't a perfect father, but the boy seemed to love him all the same.

"Alright."

**K'S POINT OF VIEW:**

Hiding, I'm not proud of it, but that's what I was doing.

The voices from the hallway were hissing at each other, whispering in a manner that didn't sound friendly in any way. Any normal child would ignore it, but I was only four and a half, and I was scared. Fear and curiosity mingled with each other, until curiosity over ruled what might have actually been common sense. I slipped out of my bed, tiptoeing barefoot to my room door, peering under the doorway.

Two sets of feet were there, which also scared me because I lived alone with my mom. I opened the door a crack, listening to the conversation.

"I didn't come here because of some feeling you're desperate to see, Charlotte." Said a deep, raspy voice. "Someone is hunting down masks, and for all I know you could be next. I've already warned Jon and Laurie, they refuse to see reason."

My mothers voice sounded next, "I'm a big girl Rorschach, I can take care of myself. I recall a certain someone saying I needed to."

I opened the door more, stepping one hesitant foot into the hallway. I saw the most terrifying man I had ever seen in my entire four year old life. He wore a dark trench coat, and a hat that looked like Indiana Jones. He had grabbed my mother's upper arms, pinning her to the wall. What scared me the most, was his face, or rather, his lack of one. What seemed like a white bag covered his face, with constantly shifting black spots. Mommy had called him Rorschach. Strange name.

His grip on her arms tightened, "Stop dreaming about something that will never happen!"

She winced, and I stepped fully into the hallway, "Mommy?" I asked, my small voice shaking.

They both turned to looked at me, and fear flashed across my Mom's face. The man looked even scarier when he was looking at me. He tilted his head to the side, and I looked away from him, to my mom. "Mommy, is he hurting you?"

I had no idea what I would do if she said yes. Was I supposed to help her, and fight the man? I couldn't do that, he was to scary. The man let go of my mom, and took a step towards me. Every instinct told me to run away, but I stood there, not moving, staring right back at the man's concealed face.

"Go back to bed sweetie." My mom whispered.

"But-"

"Bed." She said firmly. My gaze traveled to the man again, and I'm pretty sure he met my gaze behind his mask.

I backed away from them, stepping back into my room, and closing the door behind me.

**CHARLOTTE'S POINT OF VIEW:**

As soon as K shut the door, Rorschach turned back to me, and his rough voice turned on me like daggers. "What did you do?"

I crossed my arms, glaring at him. "It doesn't concern you."

"Explain her." He ordered. "Now."

I shook my head, "You told me you wanted nothing to do with women. Can you honestly blame me if I sought out someone else?"

He doesn't say a word, his black and white face staring into me as if I'm a simple clear substance. I know I am. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and I don't bother to hide anything form him, he'll figure it out. He always does.

I sighed, "It's been years since I was Archer. I'm trying to have a life, to really move on. I have a daughter now, I can't just go running off with you on some wild goose chase like when we were young." I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache coming on, "Eddie worked for the government, same as me. We're constantly targets, but we're in completely unrelated sections of work. Whatever's involving him, it's got nothing to do with me."

His mask may hide his face, but not his intentions. He won't drop this. "What was Eddie working on?"

I shrugged, "I don't know, like I said, our work is unrelated."

"Did you know he had a son?" Rorschach pressed.

I groaned, "I haven't seen Eddie in years! I don't even know where he lives!"

"What do you work on?" Rorschach asked. Does he really think he's going to find something? Does he really think I know anything about this conspiracy theory he has?

"I'm not allowed to tell you." I said evenly. "But it has nothing to do with killing off masks."

"They know who you are?" He questioned.

"They're the government, of course they know. But I never told them anything about the others. They knew who Eddie was, and quite honestly, if this was more than a simple killing, I think that Eddie got too big for his boots, went out of line, and the government couldn't afford his haywire actions. So they get someone they know can take him down."

"Who?"

I shrugged, "The government has alliances in all the right places, and training to insure that they have the upper hand in all combat forms. I'm not surprised that they made sure to have a self destruct button on Eddie. They've probably got one on me, and I understand that. They had every right to be afraid of us! Do you really think anyone could have stopped us if we all crossed the line? Decided that it was better to manage them instead of save them? It's not that far of a fall."

He was silent for a moment. "Gonna stop whoever's killin' us off. Then, find out what you're hiding."

He left, and I breathed a sigh of relief, looking back to the door where K had disappeared behind. Let's hope he doesn't come back.

**K'S POINT OF VIEW (NARRATIVE)**

That was the first, and last time I ever saw my father. In the traditional form that is. John got put into a group home, several families were interested in fostering him, but he outright refused. No one ever came close to his real father.

I remember about three days later, my Mom put a dress on me, and took me to a cemetery.

We stood there, in the rain, my mom's umbrella doing little to keep us covered. As soon as the casket was lowered into the ground, Mom turned to a man with big thick glasses, and started talking to him.

I turned to the only kid my age there, Jonny. "Hi."

He didn't answer me.

"Wanna play tag?" I asked.

"No." He snapped, "What's wrong with you? I don't have a Dad anymore."

Even thought I was only three, I knew tears when I saw them. "I don't have a Daddy either."

We stared at each other, we were in the same boat, and weren't sure where to go from there. The man with glasses suddenly raised his voice, "You did what?"

I looked over at the man talking with my mom, and he looked back at me, emotions on his face I hadn't experienced for myself yet. The man shook his head, turning back to Mommy. "Charlie, I can't do that, you know he's-"

"I'm your friend too." Mom protested. "I just needed someone else to know. If he's right and we're being hunted down…" There was a long pause, before she continued. "Just promise me you'll look after my little girl."

The man was silent, before sighing. "If you die, I'll take care of her. But you _should _tell him."

Mommy looked over at me, "K, go play with your little friend while the grown ups talk."

Me and the new boy looked at each other, before walking off together, heading for the fence circling around the cemetery. We got there, and we each put a foot on the bottom rail, seizing the next on in our fists, and just standing there, hanging off the fence like the stupid little kids we were.

He paused, looking down at me. "I'm Jonny."

"I'm K." I said, letting go of the railing with one hand and offering him my tiny little pail fist. He took it in his much bigger one, shaking it firmly. For one day, we were the best of friends.

I remember the day that New York blew up, a huge gaping hole punctured right in the center of the great city. I remember Mom picking me up and running, crying and screaming.

I remember her hiding with me in a back alley, ashes caught in her hair and tears streaking her face.

I remember about a week later, she took me to this really big house, a mansion. The man with big glasses was there, and he smiled at me weird, then offered me a cookie in the kitchen. I sat at the counter of the kitchen, nibbling on my cookie, when I heard Mom talking.

Being the nosy little kid that I was, I walked to the kitchen door, pressing my ear to it.

"What happened to him Dan." Mom asked. "I know something's wrong, he would have showed up already is he was okay."

I heard Dan sigh, then say, "I'm sorry." There was a long pause, and he finished, "He died in the arctic."

I heard Mom choke, and footsteps running towards the kitchen. I hightailed it to the counter, plopping down in my chair right as Mom rushed in, crying. She threw her arms around me, holding me close and sobbing into my hair, "Mommy?"

She never answered me. I waited for her to pull away, but she never did, so I finished my cookie, patting her wrist in a comforting way. "Mommy, please stop crying."

She didn't, and Dan stood in the doorway awkwardly, not sure what to do. After what seemed like an eternity, Mom gathered herself, and we left, going home. I heard her sobbing through my bedroom wall all night long.

When morning came, no one made me breakfast. No one came in to turn on cartoons and tell me, "Alright, just this once, you can eat in the living room." Only to let me do the same the next day. My stomach growled, and I mustered all my wits about me to scrape together my own breakfast.

I climbed up on the counter and took a banana out of the fruit basket. It was the first time I had ever made myself breakfast.

After my stomach stopped grumbling, I went to see what was wrong with Mommy, but she was still in bed, and wouldn't wake up when I shook her. She spent two days like that, until she finally walked out of her room. She didn't even say anything to me, she just went to work.

That's what my life turned into. I fended for myself, and helped out Mom. Whenever she went into episodes where she would cry and not come out of her room, I would keep the house clean, talk to her boss on the phone, and make her food she could eat in bed.

My life became about me less and less, centering entirely around my mother.

That's how it all started anyways.


	2. Run, But They'll Never Leave You Alone

Guess we should continue somewhere a bit later:

Running. I'm not proud of it, but that's what I was doing.

"Get back here you little runt!"

I looked over my shoulder, seeing Trevor and his posse across the hallway. Crap.

I took off down the hallway, dodging preps, over achievers, nerds, geeks (which are not the same thing by the way), jocks, punks, goths, emos, junkies, loners, and freaks. This is why high school is stupid, everyone is different physically and emotionally, and no one bothers to consider that maybe the other stereotypes aren't that crazy. How stupid can the world get?

A boy with dyed black hair and eyes made yellow by contacts smirked as I ran past him, giving a sarcastic cheer, "Run, ginger, run!"

Ronny needs to shut up. I'm tired of being picked on because I'm a ginger. Not much to do about it though, so no sense dwelling on it.

I ducked into computer lab, rushing to the very back, and spotting a boy with blonde hair neatly combed and parted typing hastily at the computer. "Cole!"

He looked up, startled, and I shot under the desk, tucking myself in-between his right knee and the edge of the desk. He peered down under at me, "Running from Trevor again?"

I nodded hastily. "He won't rough you up, his math homework getting done depends on you." I pointed out, with a hint of jealousy.

He snorted, turning back to his computer screen, "Oh yeah, I'm the uber nerd of the school."

I panted slightly, "I hate being a freshman."

"It's hardest on the best of us." Cole commented dryly.

"Yeah, well high school sucks, and so do all your little sayings." I growled.

"He's just jealous cause your hair is so cute." He commented. "And ashamed that a girl beats him in sports."

"No, it's because of this stupid hair." I mumbled idly running a hand through my shoulder length orange locks trying not to tug on the tangles and knots, "I'm tired of getting swirlies, and taking beatings for it. Just two weeks ago they dragged me behind the lunchroom and they started kicking the crap out of me! And I know the teachers heard us scrapping, but do you think any of them came over to break it up?"

"Someone took a video of it." Cole said.

"Really?" I asked.

"And put it up on youtube. Cops are gonna chew the principle and teachers out about not breaking it up in time." Cole said, "On the other hand, it was a featured video, dude who put it up is in the top ten popular people on youtube now."

"What kind of jerk would take a video and not try and help me out?" I growled.

"That would be me." He confessed. Well no wonder he didn't help, despite who his Dad is. Cole couldn't throw a straight punch. Nothing to do about it then.

I nodded, "Think he'd leave me alone if I cut it all off?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Wait.. You mean… all of it?"

"Yeah." I mumbled, "I don't know, just get rid of it."

Cole snorted again, "This is Trevor we're talking about. If you cut all your hair off, he'll just pick on you because you'd be bald, or because of your freckles. If you somehow get rid of those, he'll pick on you because of your grades."

"Not like his are much better." I snapped.

"You're making C's, barely." Clyde snickered.

I smirked, holding up my newly gotten report card, "Check it."

He took the paper, scanning over it. His eyes widened, "How the heck did you make an A in English?"

I shrugged, "Turns out, I'm actually smart with reading and writing."

"Well, you're not a total waste of life and space then." He said.

I punched his shin, and he yelped, "Hey, none of that!"

"Then shut up about my brain."

He chuckled, "Still have a C in math I observe."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, well math sucks."

He laughed, giving my report card back, "And you've still got a one hundred in physical education."

I nodded, deciding it was safe to come out from under the desk now. Trevor wasn't in here. He probably left the halls by now. I crawled out, nodded to Cole. "Sports are the only thing I know how to do."

"Going out for any teams this year?" He asked innocently.

"No time." I said.

"Working again?" He asked.

"Crazy hours." I admitted.

"To bad." He said, turning back to the computer screen. "Basket ball team could use you."

"Whatever." I said, turning to walk out of the computer lab, "I gotta get home, show Mom the awesome A's on my report card."

"If she decides to hang them up on the fridge, don't worry just use white out to cover up Math, Biology, American History-"

"Shut up and shut up now." I ordered.

"Fine, just remember, if you physically harm me in any way, my dad can put you away for life." Cole threatened.

"Ha!" I snorted, "I'm not afraid of the smartest man in the world sending me to prison. I get free meals there, and free gym equipment."

He rolled his eyes, turning back to his computer screen. Cole Veidt, son of Adrian Veidt, and my sort of friend/unlicensed therapist. He tells me I should try to make friends other than him, I tell him to shut up or I won't cover for him in PE. His dad might be some super quick, retired mask, fighter guy, but Cole is about as defenseless as a kitten.

When high school started he had a bunch of preps flanking him cause of his money, until they found out he was a mix of a loner and a nerd. Then he was victim of bullies, just like me.

So in PE, since we seem to be permanently playing dodge ball, I cover his sorry, can't run for his life, rich butt. Halfway through the school year, and we haven't played anything but dodge ball. Kind of sucks for Cole and all those stuck up girls, but for me? I am completely and undisputedly in my element. Last one standing in every game.

I peeked into the hall, looking both ways to see that everyone was gone, before stepping out, heading to my locker. Ronny was there, since his locker is right next to mine. Ronny kind of borders on being a complete jerk, and a pleasant acquaintance. In my mind, he's just another stupid scene kid.

He shook his black hair out of his face, smirking at me with his yellow eyes. I never really got the point of color changing contacts. "Hey ginger! Where'd you hide this time?"

"Shut up Ronny." I mumbled.

"Was it the library?" He asked, "Or did you just jump inside someone's locker shorty?"

I groaned, and Ronny laughed, "You did, didn't you! Oh man, I had no idea you could really fit in there."

I didn't jump into anyone's locker, not this time at least. I've tried it before, and it worked pretty well, besides the fact the whoever owned the locker had already gone home for the day, and I had to wait until the night janitor busted me out.

I shoved my books into the locker, and then pulled out my back pack, cramming in my report card, homework, and then slinging it over my shoulder. I reached back into the locker, yanking out my skateboard.

Ronny spoke up, pulling his own skateboard out of his locker, "You wanna hit the skate park?"

"It's always crowded after school." I mumbled.

"Wanna go anyways?" He offered. "Lines aren't that long."

"I've got work." I shot down, heading towards the doors. As soon as I stepped outside, I dropped my board, shooting forward, and shredding down the rail to the front steps. I jerked up at the last minute, landing perfectly and taking off down the sidewalk.

I rode all the way to work, which was about six or seven blocks. I worked at a pawn shop, it wasn't that bad of a job, but it wasn't that great, on top of that, I was the fifteen year old who was desperate for any job that paid good, so my work hours were taken advantage of. There wasn't a solid schedule, sometimes I would even get called in on my days off, which I didn't usually have. The boss man was a total jerk, and the other employees all but ignored me. Good pay though.

I had a natural talent for telling if someone was lying or not, which comes in handy here. I walked into the pawn shop, punching in, and then making a bee line to the back room, aka, the locker room.

I did the quick combination, yanking the door open, made sure no one was around, and then peeling off my shirt, tossing it into the locker and then yanking out my shirt for work, simple black polo shirt that was about two sizes too big, with the name of the store on the back. Jerry's Pawn and Gun.

I walked up to the desk at the left corner of the room, for collectables. Amy was standing there, impatiently waiting for me.

"Hey Amy."

She glared at me, stepping out of the desk area, "Don't keep me waiting so long, I have a life to get home to you know."

Yeah, and her fifth or six boyfriend this year. The woman could just not make any relationship work, even if it was a reasonably nice guy.

I stepped into the desk, and she walked out, going home. I had liked one of the guys she had about three months back. Name was Jason, he had this black short hair he always kept gelled up, and he was an all around nice guy. He had given me half a pack of gum once, when he came to pick up Amy for a date.

Like I said, he was a nice guy, but he had this habit of tousling my hair like I was some ten year old. When I had told him he needed to stop cause it was degrading and I was supposed to look professional at work, he just laughed and called me a cute kid before going off with Amy.

Wonder what happened to make her stop seeing him, looked like the perfect guy for her.

I was snatched up out of my thoughts by a guy in his twenties coming up over to my desk. "Can I help you?"

He nodded, he had blonde hair with dirt and a dark substance I'd guess was blood. Overall he looked like a junkie. He slapped a comic book down on the desk. I looked it over, "Batman number four?"

He nodded, and said, "It belonged to my grandfather, it's in near mint condition."

I picked it up carefully, "No it's not." I Traced a finger down the spine, "It's got some wear an tear around here, not to mention the gloss is coming off of the cover. Pages are worn, cover's crinkled, and looks like about three pages have been dog eared. Stuff like that always reduces the cost."

"Whatever." He snapped, "How much can you give me for it?"

"Well," I said, "Batman number four was actually the first mention of Gotham City. A mint condition comic would be worth six hundred and ten but with the damage to this one, I'd say about five hundred."

He agreed, got paid, and left. After working here for about a year, I've learned quite a lot of useless knowledge. Comic books, cars, baseballs, rock concert posters, guns, even fishing gear. I learned more stuff after school than I did in school.

I felt the hours tick by, minute by minute, second by second. Work was okay, not brutal, but not pleasant. First job that had come to my mind when I was out job hunting was working at the local skate park, but unfortunately the pay check wasn't enough, so it didn't work for me. My thoughts drifted back to my apartment, where my Mother should be. Should have gotten off work by now. I bit my lip, wondering if she was okay.

As soon as my shift ended, I sped home on my skateboard.

We lived in a small apartment complex, on the bad side of town, where murders, muggings, and robberies where everywhere. Really, the crime rate was ridiculous. So me being worried was pretty understandable.

I rushed up the stairs until I got to room 4D. I fumbled with the lock, stepping in, and quickly locking it behind me, shoving my key back into my pocket, and leaning my skateboard against the door. "Mom?"

No answer.

I stepped quickly into the living room, "Mom?"

I heard light snoring coming from her bedroom, she was sleeping. But it wasn't even nine thirty. My gaze traveled to the kitchen counter, seeing empty beer bottles on it. That explains it. Every five months or so Mom goes into a little episode, crying, sleeping, drinking, can't go to work at all. So she stays home and I beg her boss not to fire her. He keeps taking pity on me, but honestly I'm not sure how much longer he'll keep it up. I certainly didn't get paid enough to keep up with the rent, all my money went to groceries and the water bill.

I remember how in elementary school, I would come home to her passed out on the couch, and wake up to her already gone to work. Now that I'm older, I wonder how she managed to go to work, when she should have been so hung over, she shouldn't have been able to drive safely.

I counted the bottles on the counter, three. Well, that was about two less than normal.

I heard coughing come from Mom's bedroom, and I sighed, walking over to the door, and opening it slowly, "Mom?"

She was sitting up in bed, coughing into one hand and holding a lit cigarette in the other. I thought she agreed to stop doing that inside. "Mom?" I asked, stepping in, "Do you need water?"

She looked up at me, and I could tell she had been crying, her eye liner had run. She took one look at my face, and burst into tears. I stood there, letting her cry, this was nothing new to me.

After a few moments, she looked up at me, glaring through her tears, "Why!"

I was taken back a bit, Mom hadn't yelled at me since I had gotten a note sent home by my teacher in middle school for fighting.

"M-mom?" I asked.

Immediately, her harsh expression dropped, and instead of screaming, she just started crying. She outright blubbered her eyelids off, curling into a ball and shaking, and just making me want to tear my eyes out. If it would keep me from watching this, then heck, I was up for it.

I stood there for what felt like eternity, until I worked up the stomach to step closer to the bed, putting a hand on her shoulder. I had taken care of her for years, you'd think I would be better at comforting her.

She looked up at me, sniffling, tears streaking her face. She reached out, running her fingers along my jaw line, "You look just like him."

It came out in a whisper, the male meaning behind 'him' being pretty obvious to me. I stood there awkwardly, Mom had never acted like this before, she had never talked about the tabooed 'him' that hovered over the household. The mystery of my father hadn't been touched with a sixty foot pole since I was nine, and had made the mistake of asking my mother who he was.

I bit my lower lip, not sure how to respond to her.

"It's not fair." She whispered. "I shouldn't have… Should have never done it."

My eyes widened at her statement. She regretted having me? What the- is this how someone shows gratitude! I've taken care of her for ten years, and she tells me she never should have had me?

I glared at her, smacking her hand away. She looked completely taken back by my actions and my expression. "K, I didn't mean-"

"You regret me, huh?" I snapped, raising my voice to a yell. "Fine! I don't freakin care! Next time your hungry, get your own food!"

She shrunk back from my words, and I wasn't even done. It was pathetic. Now that I think about it, I've never been able to register any action I've ever seen my mother do as anything other than pathetic. "And how about you actually do your job! Cause I'm done groveling to your boss!"

I ducked out of the room quickly, slamming the door shut behind me. I glared at the ground, leaning against Mom's door. I shouldn't have to come home to a drunk Mother. I growled, shrugging away from the bedroom door and walking to the front door, grabbing my skate board and ignoring the new wave of crying I heard from my mother's bedroom.


	3. Bleeding Heart

Shred. Ollie. Ramp. Flip. Boneless. Grind. Tricks I had done time and time again, falling into a pattern that took nearly no effort or mental capability to maintain.

Skate park had closed three hours ago, but faulty security systems and a fence that was marked as electrified but wasn't made it simple to get in. That's where most of the graffiti came from. Strangely, the park manager didn't mind, I think it's either because he likes the way these kids make it look, or he just did the same thing years ago, and liked looking at how the kids were doing it now days, which wasn't that different.

I rode my way back up to the top of the ramp, before turning, and shooting towards the railing that had been put there. I leapt up, catching the top of the rail, and shredding down with ease. I landed nicely, riding a little before leaping into an ollie, then a boneless.*

I had taken up skateboarding when I was ten, someone had thrown away a skateboard that was in good condition, but the paint job on the bottom had been scratched away from to many grinds, and it needed a few new wheels. I had saved up for two weeks to get them. Back then I didn't have a job, I just sat on the side of the street with one shoe in front of me, and people would occasionally toss in some change.

Pride was a foreign term, and humiliation was just another word for compensation.

I hadn't been able to afford any pads or a helmet, and honestly I'm surprised I didn't get a concussion with all the times I fell on my head.

Ronny wasn't here, which I'm kind of glad for. I wanted to be alone, and Ronny wasn't a friend. If there was a word for someone who hovers between being a jerk and a pleasant acquaintance, then I would use it. Actually, I think there is a term for it, it's called, guy I know at school.

I did a few more ollie's, before just sitting down on the edge of the concrete steps, sighing to myself. A strand of hair fell into my eyes, and I glared at it, taking it between my fingers, concentrating intently. What was wrong with my hair? What was so bad about it's color that everyone wanted to beat me up because of it? When I was younger, Mom always used to tell me it was cute, that she loved my hair, it was adorable.

Why did everyone else hate it? I mean, seriously, it's like as soon as middle school started orange and red were taboo colors.

_My first day of middle school, I was pretty excited about it. I was ready to leave my 'hide in the library so no one expects me to talk' days behind me, and actually sit with people at lunch._

_I walked up the front steps, jogging to where my schedule indicated homeroom was. I grabbed a seat at the very front of the class, this year, everyone would know my name. My teachers would call on me often, and I would be one of _those _kids, the ones that teachers like, that sat at the popular table, that had all the friends._

_I looked to my left, to see a boy with dark brown curls and chocolate brown eyes, drawing Dragon Ball Z characters on the cover of his notebook. "Hi!" I said enthusiastically. "My name's K, what's you?"_

_He looked over at me, raising an eyebrow. He gave me a quick once over, and then giggled. "Hey there ginger."_

_My smile dropped, "What?"_

_He laughed, "Ya know, I heard that gingers have no souls, is that true?"_

"_Um…" I answered numbly._

"_Trent." He said. "That's my name ginger, now shut up and go stare demonically at someone else."_

_I sat there, stunned, "I don't understand, why are you calling me a-"_

"_Just shut up ginger!" He snapped._

"_But I-"_

"_Look!" He snapped, "If you don't shut up, you're gonna regret it ginger."_

"_My name isn't Ginger." I protested. "Just call me K."_

_He scoffed, "Kay?"_

"_Yeah." I said, "Like the letter. It's the first letter of my name."_

_He snorted, "I don't care, and let me tell you something ginger, you're gonna regret not keeping your mouth shut."_

_He turned back to his doodles, and I looked over my shoulder, seeing a girl behind me with blonde hair, giggling._

"_What?" I asked._

_She giggled more, "Nothing, ginger."_

_I sighed, and made sure that in the rest of my classes, I sat in the very back. When recess came around, I walked out into the play ground to see the boy from homeroom, Trent, waiting for me with a few other boys. "Hey ginger!"_

_I bit my lip, turning to walk back into class, but he grabbed my arm, yanking me down the steps, and shoving me into the dirt._

_I stood up, shocked at the violence. I was young back then, naive. Back then I thought people didn't hurt you unless they had a good reason. I was wrong._

"_Look Trent, I don't really wanna fight-"_

_His fist slammed right into my nose, and I stumbled backwards, grabbing it, tears immediately spilling over my eyelids at the pain._

_The blonde girl who had sat behind me in homeroom suddenly spoke up, "Dude! You just hit a girl!"_

_Trent froze, looking down at me, "You're a _girl_?"_

_I couldn't answer him, I was crying to hard._

I shook my head at the memory. Trent had avoided me for a few months, until the verbal bashing continued. The reason I hadn't looked like a girl back then was because I always got one hair cut a year, right before school. I would get it all chopped off, right below my ears. By the time school let out, it would be shoulder length, and I would look like a girl again.

Then, the second year of middle school came, and any rules he had about hitting girls disappeared. I had to run home from school every day, hide behind the dumpsters at recess, and really hope we were on the _same _team in sports. I had to put up with being crammed in lockers, given swirlies, Indian burns, noogies, and straight out beatings.

I groaned, letting the strand of hair go, and stood up, picking up my skate board, and walking out of the park. I tucked my skate board under one arm, pulling up my hoodie over my hair.

Unlike most girls who walked around at night, I was pretty much left alone. Why? Cause I didn't look like one. I hadn't had a lot to eat growing up, and I still didn't. Malnutrition had made sure that I had no curves at all. Don't get me wrong, nature had seen to it I had a waist and hips, but there was no chest whatsoever. Now, I also had these huge, awkward shoulders, that were not feminine at all. I was pretty ugly too. I had this big jaw line and nose, combined with my mom's small eyes, looked pretty bad.

Most girls would be disgusted if they looked like this, cry about their looks, have no self esteem. I'm not. I know I'm ugly, and I have no wish to change it. Me having a face like a dog kept boys away from me, and a body like a stick kept creeps from dragging me into an alley. In New York, you can't be pretty _and _survive past puberty. I've seen it happen around here, girls from school stopped thinking about being smart and strong, turning to boys for attention, searching for romance and attention to fulfill their lives. They got broken hearts, and they got used.

I've heard of the horror stories about girl being dragged into alley ways, most not walking back out. I know a few who have been able to walk back out, they're never the same. They wear sweaters and long jeans, even in summer. They don't like to be touched, they don't like to talk to men, or boys. They end up cursing their beauty for what it did to them, wishing they had been born ugly.

Should have wised up sooner.

I used to wish I was pretty when I was about nine or ten, wish I looked like the other girls who dressed in pink skirts and sandals, had long pretty hair, and wore blush and eye shadow. Then when I saw what happened to those girls, I didn't know what I wanted. One day, a couple street boys needed an extra player for a basket ball game, saw me, and called me over. Looking back on it, I'm pretty sure they thought I was a boy. I found out pretty quick that I was better at sports because of my big shoulders and flat chest. From then on, I knew that there was nothing wrong with me, I was fine the way I was, and I'd rather be strong and ugly than pretty and pathetic any day.

I bought a hot dog from a street vender, since I knew there wasn't food at home and I was pretty hungry.

I passed by a half starved dog on the side of the street, who was digging through the dumpster looking for food. He looked up as I past by, and I saw this wasn't a boy dog, it was a girl, and she was pregnant. She trotted over, timid, staring at the hot dog I had only taken a bit out of.

I sighed, handing her the rest of the hot dog. She took it gratefully, eating it as if she hadn't eaten in a week. After she was done, she looked up at me, and licked my hand, as if thanking me.

I walked away, "Just take care of those puppies."

Great, now I had fed a dog, and I was still hungry. Curse my bleeding heart.

A hobo on the side of the street laughed at me as I past, having seen the dog incident, and heard me talking to the dog. I bit my tongue, what I did with my food was my business. I felt a tug on my pant leg, and looked down to see why he was really laughing. The dog was following me.

I sighed, "Go away, I can't take care of you."

I walked all the way back home, and the dog still didn't leave me alone. My land lord, Aaron, happened to be there, and he frowned at the dog, then looked at me, "You get a new dog K?"

"She just won't stop following me." I complained.

"Give her a good kick."

"I'm not kicking a pregnant dog." I snapped.

He rolled his eyes, "Whatever. If you intend to keep it, just clean up after it."

He left it at that, walking away to collect rent. Dogs were allowed here, times were to tough to band things like that from your apartments.

I sighed, looking down at the dog, "Fine, come on in."

I lead her up to my apartment, setting out water for her in an old mixing bowl. She slurped it down pretty quickly, before jumping up on the couch and curling up like she was gonna sit there.

"Uh… that's my bed-" She jerked her head up to look at me. I sighed, "Fine, sleep there, but only because you're pregnant, as soon as those puppies come out, you're on the floor."

She seemed to accept that, and put her head back down. I grabbed a blanket from the closet, curling up on the floor. Wasn't much difference between the floor and the couch to be honest, except for warmth. So I had a dog now, alright, I can handle that. Just pick up an extra shift at the shop, or maybe a second job. Then there's the puppies to think about. I'd cross that bridge when I got there.

I heard Mom's door open, and I looked up from the floor to see her staring at the dog. She looked down at me, and then just walked to the front door, leaving to go to work. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

*These are real skateboarding tricks, and you can look them up if you want. They're really cool.


	4. Voice

_Knock, knock, knock._

"Miss Brendan?"

_Knock, knock, knock._

"Miss Brendan?"

_Knock, knock, knock._

"Miss Brendan?"

She flung open her door, a Latino woman who might have been pretty, about two centuries ago. Her pores were huge, she was ridiculously fat, not that looks mattered to me, seeing as I had no room to talk. She had her black her pulled back into a messy ponytail, and she was wearing a white tank top and a black pencil skirt. Her bra however, was pink with black edging, which made me a bit awkward.

"Was a matter child?" She asked, stepping outside further, rather than inviting me in.

When I was little, I used to come up here whenever I was hungry, she always had a few snicker doodles laying around. Once I got older, she kept trying to get me to leave my mother, move in with her, or track down my father and live with him. Eventually, I just stopped coming, she got really annoying with her 'must save all children' attitude.

"Uh, I know I said I didn't need anything, but-"

"Don't you worry sweetie." She said, reaching into her bra, and pulling out a wallet, I had to avert my eyes. "Just happens, I gotta little extra on me today, and-"

"No!" I said, waving my hands back and forth, "I don't need money!"

She put her wallet back into her bra, "Sorry bout that."

"I just need you to take a look at my dog, I think she's pregnant." I said, gesturing to the pit bull beside me.

She looked down at her, than up at me, "Yeah, but she's incredibly underweight, you need to fatten her up, and fast, cause if they haven't already, they'll be stillborn."

"Well… what do I feed her?" I asked.

"Well, you can always just make her really fatty foods." She said, "Make her bacon every morning, and don't underestimate the simple technique of pouring a little of that grease into her lunch and dinner bowls. Give her big portions, but don't give to much."

"Um… I don't know how to cook." I confessed.

She smiled, "Come on in, I'll teach you."

She strode back into her apartment, leaving me in the hallway. I looked down at the dog, gave her a shrug, and said, "Well, it's for the puppies, right?"

We both walked in, and I have to admit, I enjoyed myself. It was nice to actually act like, for one minute, I didn't have to go to sleep at eight so that I wouldn't be dead on my feet by five.

Soon as we were done, she gave me the huge plate of bacon we made, and a Tupperware bow of the grease she has drizzled out. She said goodbye, and I showed myself out.

Soon as I got out of there, I took the dog home, and gave hr about half of the bacon to eat, and then left for work. It was Sunday, but I worked _all the time_.

About two hours into work, I heard a bark outside, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw my dog standing outside, sitting right next to the door like a guard dog, waiting all patient for me to come out.

Amy grabbed a broom next to her desk, "Stupid mutt."

I stopped her, "Amy, don't, that's my dog."

"Well what's it doing here!?" She asked.

"I don't know, it must have followed me home." I looked a the clock, "My shifts almost over anyways, cover for me?"

She rolled her eyes, "Fine, but you owe me ginger."

"… and even at work, I'm the odd man out." I growled, rushing out the door. I glared down at the dog, "What are you doing here?!"

She looked up at me, tilting her head to the side, as if she didn't understand why she couldn't be here. "You're scaring customers away! You'll get me fired!"

Still, she didn't move. I sighed, "Fine, let's go home, and this time, I'm locking the door."

She followed me home, but the minute I walked back into the hallway, and closed the door behind me, she started howling her head off. I had to yank open the door and pet her for three minute straight, just to get her to shut up.

The next day when I went to school, she followed me all the way there, and almost followed me inside, but security stopped her. They tried to yell at me about, but I explained that I couldn't get her to leave me alone. Yes, she was my dog, but whenever I tried to leave her at home, she howled so loud my landlord almost kicked me out. They let it slide, but she still wasn't allowed to come inside with me. I managed to get her to wait outside in the alley next to school, with a couple hamburgers.

I sat across from Cole at lunch, "Hey Cole."

He looked up at me, eyes widening at my newly gotten black eye, "What happened to your face!?"

"Cole, do you want a dog?" I asked, avoiding the subject.

"Are you telling me a dog did this to you?" he asked, eyes going wide.

"No, but Trevor probably counts as one intellectually." I said.

"My father has nine cats." He said.

"So I'll take that as a no." I said, picking at the sloppy Joes and fries the lunch ladies had served us all.

"Why, do you want one?" He asked.

"I have one, and it won't leave me alone!" I complained, "It's waiting outside for me right now."

"What kind of dog?" He asked, perking up with interest. Maybe he did want a dog.

"Pit bull, female, pregnant." I said.

"There's no way my father would ever let me get a pregnant dog. One dog, maybe, if I really groveled, but a dog, with puppies in advance? Never." He said, dismissing his interest.

"You have to grovel to get what you want?" I asked.

"Only if it's something he doesn't want to give me." Cole said. "No dogs, or sweets, but video games, CD's, posters, concert tickets, summer camp selections, and the most recent topic, boarding school."

I looked up at him, "Boarding school? You're thinking of leaving?"

"Don't make a big deal out of it." He said, "I mean, did you honestly think I was going to stay in your life forever?"

"No… I just, figured we had high school, at least." I mumbled. "I mean, I thought we would graduate together. Or, you would graduate, and I'd be cheering you on from the audience."

"You're not going to fail high school K." He said, rolling his eyes. "You could get a basketball scholarship if you tried."

"No time." I said, "Wish I did, but I don't."

"I could help you out." He said, taking out his wallet, "How much do you make a month? I'll match it, then you can play basketball."

I glared at him, "Put your wallet away, or I'll leave you by yourself in the lunchroom, easy pickings for Trevor."

"Fine." He said, rolling his eyes, and putting his wallet away. "I don't see what the big deal is, I've got more money than I could ever spend, you know it wouldn't be a big deal for me to give you a couple hundred."

I shook my head, "I don't need your help, I can make it on my own."

"Yeah, for now." He said, "But what about a lasting career? One that'll give you health benefits, insurance, a retirement fund?"

"I'll be dead way before I'll need any of that stuff." I said, twirling my finger around to gesture to the tables around us, "When you look around here, your vision is divided into two things, popular kids like Trevor, and freaks like us. What do I see? I see the cheer leaders, on their way to becoming women working street corners. I see football players, on their way to becoming thugs, pimps, and gang bangers. These smart people, they'll never get a shot, not around here. You've got something special going for you Cole, you're smart, and rich. You'll get somewhere."

"What are the nerds talking about?" Trevor asked, walking up behind us with his posse, slamming his hand on the table next to my lunch tray.

Cole sighed, "You, one of lesser intelligence, we are having a civil conversation, one which you are no where near apart of, seeing as your limited intelligence prevents you from grasping the concept. Compared to me, you're the missing link."

Trevor paused, "Are you saying my brain is undeveloped?"

"No." I said quickly, "He's repeating what your mother said earlier."

I stood up from my chair, facing him. "And before you start throwing the punches and dishing out swirlies, consider this: You're probably going to end up working for Cole one day, his last name happens to be Veidt, remember? And me, I'm his best friend. His father could have you arrested for assault."

"That didn't work the other sixteen times you threatened him, it won't work this time." Cole said, rubbing his forehead, like he was getting a headache.

"Shut up Kovacs." He said, shoving me down into my chair. "Now, Veidt, you weren't really trying to offend me, were you?"

"I'm merely pointing out that you can't keep up an intelligent conversation with me, with either of us." Cole said.

"Hey, keep me out of it." I said, glaring at him.

Cole shook his head, "And no amount of wedgies, Indian burns, beatings, or swirlies could ever prove that wrong."

Trevor glared at him, "You better watch your mouth."

"If you think I'm wrong, please." Cole said, gesturing for him to sit down beside me.

"Are you insane?" I asked, and Trevor pulled out the seat next to me, sitting down.

"Okay." Trevor said, "I can do this."

"Alright." Cole said, "Then bring up an intelligent topic to talk about."

Trevor paused, "Alright, fine, last night I was watching animal planet, apparently, if starfishes lose one arm, they can grow it back."

I snorted, "You sure this particular starfish wasn't wearing green, Hawaii themed swimsuit shorts, walking around with a yellow, square sponge in a brown suit?"

He paused, "No, I'm pretty sure that it was discovery channel. They also said that dolphins might be smarter than humans, but the ways they tried to prove it weren't very convincing."

"Well I think we could manage a similar experiment." Cole said, "One much more convincing. All we would need is a reasonably sized pool, a few beach balls-"

"And whatever small tasty treats Trevor is fond of." I offered.

Cole nodded, "Yeah, exactly."

Trevor paused for a moment, "Are you guys saying a dolphin is smarter than me?"

"No, you did, we were just trying to back up your hypothesis." Cole assured him.

Trevor jumped up, banging his fists down on the table, "Hey you wanna shut up Veidt?"

"You can't even spell Veidt." I said, grabbing a French fry and nibbling on it.

He paused for a moment, as if really trying to figure out how to spell it, before grabbing my lunch tray, and slamming it onto the ground. "No, but I can spell dead, which is what you are if you don't apologize, right now Kovacs!"

I stopped, glaring down at the lunch table, before slowly standing up, facing Trevor, "Trevor, I'm tired of you assaulting me verbally and physically. Alright? I'm done putting up with all this. The only thing you're trying to do is make us feel bad, so you feel better. But the minute high school is over, that all turns around. You're going to wind up working for Cole, as some dead end job as a janitor, and I'm going to be glaring back at you from your TV screen in a few years, winning Women's Olympic Basketball! So you tell me who the real loser is here-"

Trevor cut me off, punching me in the face, and then shoving me out of my chair. "No, you're still going to be exactly what you are now Kovacs, a loser, with a tramp for a Mom!"

I paused, standing up, glaring at him, "What did you just say about my mother?"

"What, you think we don't know Kovacs? You've got a pretty Mom, no Dad, we can put two and two together." He said, smirking.

My mother was not a tramp, sure, she wasn't that great of a mother, but she never hit me, never yelled at me, and until I was four, was a loving Mom. _He's a coward, call him on it._

If I had been in my right mind at the time, I would have realized, that wasn't my voice in my head, but I didn't. Not at the time.

"Take it back Trevor." I demanded, balling my fists up. My voice was terrifying to my own ears, I sounded strange, deeper than normal, furious, ready to unleash hell.

He smirked, "No."

He had his crew backing him, he's not afraid.

_Yes he is, a little pain is all it'll take, he'll never mess with you again._

I didn't even think, My fist collided with Trevor's face, and suddenly, I was holding a chair above his head, the chair I had been sitting in, and hitting him with it.

His boys tried to grab me, but I hit them with the chair too, punching them, kicking them where it hurt, and screaming at the top of my lungs. Trevor jumped up off the ground, trying to run for it, but I wasn't going to let him. I jumped up onto the table, running along it, and launching into the air, tackling Trevor to the ground.

I landed on his back, and I grabbed his arm, twisting it in between his shoulder blades. He yelped, "Okay, okay! I take it back, I take it back Kovacs!"

"What's my name!? You call me by my name!" I roared.

"I'm Sorry K! I take it back, your mother is a wonderful woman!" He pleaded. "Please stop!"

I got off of him, and he curled into a ball, cradling his arm. Cole grabbed my arm, dragging me out of the cafeteria as teachers ran in. Me and him ran until we got to the computer lab, and he turned to me, "Are you insane!? You've killed yourself K!"

"No, I haven't." I said, feeling calm, calmer than I had in awhile.

"K, Trevor is going to get you back for this. Once he gets over what happened in the cafeteria today, he's going to come back for you. You know the kind of streets he lives on, he can get a gun at any street corner!" Cole said, biting his nails.

"Cole." I said firmly.

"What?" He asked.

"Stop it." I said, "Trevor is a coward, he won't do anything. But his pride is big enough he won't tell the teachers, he won't want anyone knowing he got beat by a girl."

"Yeah but-"

"And if he brings a gun, leave it to me. Next time, I'll break his arm."

Cole raised an eyebrow at me, "K, you did break his arm."

"What?"


	5. A Box

Knocking on the door woke me up in the morning. That was what made me scared. Knocking? No one ever came to visit, except Miss Brendan. She never came in the morning, it was always the afternoon.

I got up slowly, and my dog immediately followed, barking at the door. "Shut up." I commanded, and she did. I grabbed a baseball bat that I kept next to my couch, walking towards the door, "Who is it?"

"It's Cole!"

I cursed, dropping the bat, and opening the door. It was Cole, plus a man who must have been his dad, and a man with brown hair and big glasses. I glared at Cole, "You're a rat."

He shook his head, "No, I didn't tell them anything! They just wanted to talk to you."

"… What?"

Cole's father spoke up, "Miss Kovacs, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I hear you've been defending my boy at school."

"Uh… Hi."

The other man smiled at me, "My name is Dan Dreiberg. Is your mother home?"

I frowned, "No, but I've got a temper mental dog right behind me if you get any wise ideas."

He paused for a second, before smiling, "No, it's not that, I know your mother personally. Can we come in?"

I paused, debating about just saying no and slamming the door shut. But, this guy is with Cole, he's probably legit.

I moved to the side, gesturing for them to come inside. "Sure."

They walked in, and Cole smiled down at my dog, "This is the dog you were talking about?"

"Yeah, changed your mind about it?" I asked.

"I told you, we have nine cats." He said.

"Fair enough." I mumbled.

Dan turned to me, holding a box, "What's your name again? Cole keeps calling you K, like the letter, right?"

"Yeah." I said, frowning.

Dan cleared his throat, "Well, that's interesting. I know you don't really know me, but I, well, I kind of know you."

"Look, Dan was it? I let you in because you're with Cole, but I try not to make a habit of trusting people, especially weird people, and you, you're really weird." I said, "So, if you want this conversation to continue, don't go around saying you know me, you don't. You sound like a Social Worker. If you are, I'll have to kill Cole."

Dane smiled, just a little, "No, I'm not a Social Worker, and I say that I kind of know you, because your mother brought you to my house when you were four, do you remember?"

I paused, "Were you the guy that gave me a cookie and told me to wait in the kitchen?"

He nodded, "Yeah, that was me, you, me, and your mom just got back from a funeral."

"I remember." I said.

He smiled a little bigger. "I knew your father."

My mind went blank, "What?"

"Your father, I knew him." Dan said. "He… he was a good man."

I bit my tongue, "Look, if you're just gonna come in here and try to say a bunch of great stuff about a man I honestly don't know, then just leave."

He shook his head, nodding to Cole. Cole smiled at me, taking off his backpack, and taking out a weird, golden band he put around his head, "Check this out K!"

"I get it, you're a pretty princess." I said, turning back to Dan, "Now get out, I have work in two hours, I'd like to get a little sleep first."

Dan nodded, "Sure, just let me ask you something, "Did your mom ever talk about your father?"

"She hasn't talked to me all week." I snapped.

"I'll take that as a no." Dan mumbled, opening the small box. "I'm guess she never told you about this either."

I frowned, looking inside the box, "What are you-"

I froze, looking at the inside of that box. A white and black mask, the black and white shifting around, the black moved, but it never mixed with the white, it was always shifting, looking like ink blots on a white piece of paper. There were other things under the mask, but I couldn't bring myself to touch the mask and move it to see under it. Something about that mask, it just didn't feel right. "What is this?"

Dan looking at me patiently, "I think you know what this is."

"This… this belong to one of the Watchmen, right?" I asked, "Wasn't he named Rorschach?"

Dan nodded, "Do you know what a Rorschach is?"

"Uh… an ink blot test for mental insane people?"

Dan nodded again, and I looked away from the mask, up at him, "Why would you show me this, we were talking about my… dad."

Dan held the box out for me, "It's your's."

"Why!?" I snapped.

Everyone was silent, even Cole. My dog jumped between my and Dan, growling and barking.

"Shut up!" She stopped barking.

Dan sighed, "There's not easy way to say this, to anyone. Your father, his name was Walter Kovacs, but he had another name, one that he considered his real name. Rorschach."

My head was spinning, I just wanted them to leave. This wasn't true! My father wasn't Rorschach! I… I don't have a father!

"He would have wanted you to have this, all of it." Dan said, trying to get me to take the box. My eyes dropped back down to the box again, looking at the mask.

My hands acted on their own, taking the box from Dan, and slapping the lid back onto it, "Okay, now I'm serious this time, Get out."

My dog started barking at them again, and Adrian nodded, "Fine. If you ever need anything, my card is in that box."

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever, just leave."

They walked to the door, and Cole turned around, "Oh, and K, it's not a princess tiara, okay? It's a crown, alright? The same one my dad wore when he was Ozymandias."

I raised an eyebrow, "So?"

"So, I'm going to be Ozymandias one day." He said, "Aren't you going to be Rorschach?"

I paused, "Cole, For the son of the smartest man alive, you're one of the stupidest people I know. GET OUT!"

Cole ran out, slamming the door behind him. I looked down at the box in my hands, and collapsed on the couch. My dog came over to me, and I frowned, "I never gave you a name, did I?"

She just looked at me, patiently. "I'll get around to it, promise." I mumbled.

I opened the box again, staring at the mask for a moment, before I grabbed it, so I could pull it out of the way and rummage through the box, but a sudden voice shot through my thoughts. _Put it on._

I froze, looking around, but no one was here. I ignored the voice, tossing the mask to the side, and looking inside the box. A fedora. I pulled it out, setting it down next to the hat, and pulling out the next thing, a gun? I didn't know Rorschach used guns, but I guess it's not that strange. Then I looked at it more closely, and realized, it was a grappling hook gun. _That _is pretty darn cool. Adrian's buisness card, I'll burn it later. I fumbled in the bottom of the box for awhile, until found an old picture, folded, creased, and a little water damaged, but you could still clearly see the picture. All the Watchmen, opening day, heroes who protected their city with their lives.

I sighed, staring at the picture, then looking over at my dog, "Do you think they're telling the truth?"

I looked back at the mask, laying on the couch next to me, "I mean, is he was Rorschach, then, great. But, what if they're just messing with me?" I sighed again, "I'm tired of everyone messing with me."

She nuzzled my knee, and whined a little, trying to get me to cheer up I guess. I scratched her behind her ears. "Fine, I'll find out tomorrow."

I stood up, "For now, I've got to get ready for work, no point in trying to sleep today."


	6. Am I Going Insane

I looked up at the huge building, really, it was ridiculously huge. Did they really need such a big building? I grunted, walking into the office, approaching the secretaries desk, "Scuse me, Miss?"

She looked up from her computer, frowning down at me, "Are you lost?"

Of course she would think that. Ripped, stained jeans, white tee-shirt that had a hole in the shoulder, crappy black backpack slung over one shoulder, I looked like I was a street kid who got lost and wandered in here for directions. Having a pit bull right next to me didn't help. "No, I'm here to see Adrian."

She looked thoroughly disturbed, "Excuse me?"

"Need to see Adrian, he knows me." I explained, showing her the business card he had given me, up on closer inspection last night I had learned it was an all access card, if you showed up with it, they took you to see whoever you wanted. "Just tell him it's K."

"Kay?" She asked.

"Yeah, the letter K." I explained, "It's the first letter of my name, but he only knows me by K, so just tell him it's K, and I need to talk to him."

She looked down at my dog, "We don't allow dogs in here, he keeps several cats in his office."

"My dog doesn't attack cats." I explained, "She minds her own."

The woman nodded, grabbing her phone, "Mr. Veidt? Yes, I have a person here, all access, claiming she knows you. Her name is K, says she needs to talk to you."

She paused, before hanging up, standing up from her desk quickly, "Do you have a leash for her?"

"Nope." I said, "Don't worry about her."

She lead me to the elevator, to the top floor, than down the hall, coming to a stop at the last door, "Right here." She said, opening the door, and gesturing for me to enter.

I walked in, and Adrian was sitting at his desk, answering a few reporters. I stood off to the side, staring at these figurines he had set up of The Watchmen. I've have to admit, I had never really thought of The Watchmen that much, like I never gave much thought to any generals in The Civil War. It was yesterday's news, didn't concern me. But now that I have an apparent connection to one of them, I couldn't help but wonder why the hell they did it. Walking around dressed up in masks and latex, it just seemed… well, stupid.

Rorschach didn't wear latex though, his action figure had a trench coat and fedora combo. It was actually a lot more intimidating than a cape and cowl with ridiculous owl ears, or skin tight latex and thigh high boots.

Eventually, the reporters went away, and Adrian walked over to me, he opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. "Cut the formalities Adrian. Prove it to me."

He paused, "Alright, follow me."

He led me out of the room, into one that was clearly used for storage, and he walked over to an old file cabinet, pulling out an extremely thin file. He handed it to me, and I opened it carefully.

There was an arrest record with a photo of a man, red hair, beat up face, and freckles. I took in a sharp breath. The resemblance was uncanny.

I looked up at Adrian, "Okay." I said weakly, "You've convinced me."

He nodded, "My condolences."

I shook my head, "Why on Earth would you tell me now? Give me his costume? His grappling gun?"

Adrian just sighed, "I'm not allowed to tell you. But I think you should know, you need to be ready, for the worst."

"The worst?" I asked. "And who decided this?"

"Dr. Manhattan." Adrian said. "He's seeing something dark for the future of earth. He needs people he can trust."

"And he thinks he can trust me?" I asked.

"He trusted your father." Adrian said thoughtfully. "Me and your father disagreed about a lot of matters. People always called him a psychotic, paranoid, but at the end of the day, he was a good man. He was more of a hero than I was. Convinced that the public's eyes couldn't be forced close, they needed to know about everything."

I nodded thoughtfully, "Thank you."

He smiled, "My son tells a lot of stories."

"Oh Jesus."

"And I wanted to personally thank you for all you've done for him." Adrian said, "One of the reasons I never wanted him in public school was because of his lack of skills. I was convinced he would have given up on school after being in it one weak. Thank oyu for looking out for him."

I shrugged, "He does the same for me."

Adrian nodded, "Cole tells me you have quite the knack for sports."

I nodded, "Basket ball and soccer mostly."

Adrian nodded, "Have you ever tried any form of martial arts?"

I nodded, "There used to be a kickboxing program at our school, but they got rid of it last year, haven't fought legally since."

"Legally?" Adrian asked.

"Idiots at school pick fights with me, I finish them."

"Yes, I've come to understand you broke a young man's arm a few days ago."

"He was asking for it." I shrugged off.

"Indeed he was. Have no fear, I've spoken to the faculty at your school, and they'll dropped the matter." Adrian smiled a little.

I nodded, "Thanks."

Me and Adrian parted on good terms, and despite me hating people like him (he was rich, a liberal, and he could get away with mass murder because of his money) I felt gratitude to him for what he had done. But I wasn't satisfied, I wanted to know why. Why give me the costume now? Why try and find me now?

There was also the matter of the disturbing voice inside my head, that had talked to me a grand total of three times. After a long walk home, I just decided to ignore the fact I had ever heard it, and concentrate on trying to figure out a name for my dog. Cause she apparently had no intention of ever leaving.

**LUNCH THE NEXT DAY:**

Cole sat down across from me, "K, my father said you paid him a visit yesterday about Rorschach."

"Shut up." I snapped.

He held up his hands in surrender, "Alright, fine. I'm just curious is all."

"About what, the fact I wanted to know if I was being lied to?" I grumbled.

He raised an eyebrow, "About why you care. I've never heard you talk about your father, and I'm your only friend."

I glared at him, "Until last night I never had a father, now apparently I do. I wanted to make sure that I wasn't being lied to."

Cole nodded, "Alright, and he somehow convinced you?"

I nodded, reaching into my pocket, and pulling out the mug shot of Walter Kovacs. "I always knew my last name was my fathers, considering that my mother's full name is Charlotte Nix. I never thought I'd look so much like him though."

Cole nodded, "First thing that strikes me is the eyes."

"My eyes?" Why one earth would the eyes draw him in.

"Yeah, and his." Cole said, "You've got his eyes, this weird golden brown color. Never really seen another color like that."

I paused, "Cole, why did your father give you that tiara?"

He glared at me, "It's not a tiara."

"Whatever, why'd he give it to you?"

"I assume because he intends for me to follow in his footsteps." Cole turned down to glare at his own food, he was a vegan, and lunch today was hamburgers. "I imagine that's why they gave you the mask and all that stuff. Follow in your father's footsteps."

"He was a criminal." I mumbled. "He killed people, broke the law, got arrested, broke out, then sent his journal into that newspaper company before supposedly dying."

Cole shrugged, "He killed bad guys, and by breaking the law, he was doing what he thought was right."

I tried to change the subject, "Trevor give you any trouble today?"

He paused, "A little, why?"

"Your hair is wet, he gave you a swirly, didn't he?"

"Yeah." Cole shuddered. "That toilet was disgusting."

I nodded, "I'll take care of it. Honestly I'm surprised he did that with his broken arm."

"Naw, his crew did it." Cole shrugged off, "And forget about it, you're already in hot water about breaking a guys arm in school K. You don't need any more trouble."

I shook my hair slowly, "I thought Trevor would have backed off. I mean, I broke the guys arm-"

_He's afraid of you, not the weakling._

I sat bolt right up, gasping. The voice was back. Cole raised an eyebrow, "What's wrong?"

"Uh, nothing." I mumbled. "Just uh… sudden head ache coming on."

Cole nodded, "I've got some aspirin in my locker if you want it."

"I'm good actually." I waved off, "Just uh, don't be so antisocial, that's how he gets to you. You're always either with me, or alone. Stay around people."

"Well, the nerds hate me because I'm a rich kid, the rich kids hate me because I'm a nerd, which leaves only you, the only girl jock in this school who isn't a prep." He said, smiling. "Wanna walk me to class?"

"Actually." I said, "I'm going to go to an extra curricular I've picked up recently."

"Oh?"

"Basketball." It was a complete lie, but he bought it.

Cole left, and I booked it. Ran out of school, picked up my dog from the alley, and ran all the way home. Mom wasn't home, big surprise, so I leaned under my couch, dragging out the cardboard box. I tore the lid off, grabbing the mask, and holding it up in front of myself. "You started all of this!" I hissed angrily. "You made the voices start!"

_Put on the mask._ The voice commanded.

"I am not gonna put on the mask!" I snapped to the voice. Oh God, I talked to it, now it'll never shut up. Well, since it'll never go away now, better go for broke. "If I put this mask on, then something really bad is going to happen, just like those people on horror movies who do the really stupid thing, and everyone hates them for it! Just like how on Jeepers Creepers, that boy thought going down the tunnel was a good idea!"

I collapsed on the ground, running a hand through my hair, "What kind of idiot goes back to the serial killers lair? Who does that?"

_Put on the mask!_ The voice snapped, it sounded like it was getting pretty angry.

"No!"

_Put on the mask, now!_ He growled. I knew it was a male, the voice was way to deep and raspy to be a woman's.

I jumped up, running to the kitchen, and shoving the mask deep into the sink, and growling, "If you don't shut up right now, I'm gonna turn the garbage disposal on! I mean it!"

Silence.

I took a deep breath, pulling the mask out of the sink, and then falling down onto the floor again.

I stayed there for awhile, hugging my knees to my chest, staring at the mask in fear, until I snapped out of it. I mean, it's a mask! I don't have to be afraid of it! I scooped it up, slapping it back into the box, and kicking the box under the couch. Then, I sat down on the couch, taking in deep breaths. I felt like I had just run a mile.

"Uh… I'm just gonna pretend that this… never happened."


	7. Black Out

A week had past since the insistent with the Rorschach mask, and I was doing my very best to forget about he whole thing. I had more important things to worry about, like being the new school bad ass.

Cole was relentless in trying to get me to talk about my father, but here's the truth: I don't have one. I never knew him personally, I can never talk about him, because I know nothing for sure. I don't know if he was a good guy, or a bad guy. Basic information, he killed people, but only criminals he felt deserved it.

In the narrow views of society, that's called taking the law into your own hands, proclaiming yourself judge, jury, and executioner. In my view point, that's making a tough call, that the average man would abuse. According to record, he never did. He could cross a line, and not abuse his power, when most definitely would have.

I could respect him for that, but I could never really do anything beyond that. Yes, he was my father, but I didn't know him. I never would.

Nothing to be done about it, no one can bring back the dead.

I was terrified that my mom was going to find the mask, and everything else in the shoe box. So, I started carrying it around in my back pack. I rolled up the mask and stuffed it inside an old tube sock, so no one would steal it from my locker when I was in school. I usually kept any cash I had on me in that sock too.

After a long day of school, and being stared at all day by pretty much… everyone… I was heading to work, when a man came up behind me, and grabbed my arms. "Help!"

I kicked and screamed, but no one tried to help. I caught them looking at me out of the corner of their eyes, but no one moved to help, no one wanted to.

The man slapped a hand over my mouth, yanking me into an alley. "Shut up girl!"

He shoved me down onto the ground, and my head hit the concrete, stars flashing in my eyes.

_Run!_

The voice was back. The man grabs my upper arms, yanking me towards him as he kneels on the ground. "Smile sweetheart, this won't take long."

"Hey Kevin, save some for the rest of us."

There's other men in this alley, they want to pass me around.

"This the girl you were telling us about Trevor?"

My eyes shoot to my left, and there's Trevor, sitting on the edge of a dumpster, smirking down at me. "Yeah Dad, that's her."

Trevor set me up to be gang raped.

The man on top of me chuckles, "Wouldn't have guessed it from lookin' at her. Ugly little thing."

_Run, run now!_ The voice screams, panic evident in his voice.

I can't run, even as I struggle against the man, he lets go of my arms, and grabs my hips instead. No. No!

_Punch him now, in the throat. Aim for his Adams apple._

I reel my fist back, slamming it into the small bump in his throat. Kevin screams, gripping his throat, rolling back. I scurried to my feet, but another man knocked me to the ground, then kicked me in the ribs several times.

_Grab his ankle, with your arms, not your hands._

When his foot hit my ribs again, I wrapped my arms around it.

_Twist around._

I rolled around on the ground, and the man lost his balance, hitting the turf hard. I jumped up, backed against the wall, holding my ribs cage, panting.

Trevor piped up, "I told you she could put up a fight."

I had always known Trevor wasn't any good, but I never thought he would do something like this… even to me.

_Put on the mask, no arguing!_

But-

_If you want to keep your virginity, put it on, NOW!_

Point well taken.

My hands shot into the side pouch on my back pack, yanking out the sock, and ripping the mask out of it. Dollar bills and coins littered fell to the ground, and I yanked the mask over my head. The minute I did, the world went black.

**RORSCHACH:**

Free, at last. After all these years, I can _move_. I can _walk_. And I can _fight_. Speaking of which…

My head snapped up, and I surveyed the scene in front of me, two men clutching their throats/knee in pain. Kid follows orders well. Criminals were still as dumb as ever though. And civilians just as bad. They see a grown man dragging a teenage girl into an alley, and no one does _anything_. I'll deal with it. Same way I always do.

"Think there's something you should understand." I rasped.

The man run at me, and I grab the first, tossing him over my shoulder, right into Trevor, making him fall of the dumpster, landing on his face, with a three hundred pound man on top of him. I'd do worse later.

I punch the second in the gut, then knee his face in. The third swings at me with a steel pipe, and I duck, the girls body isn't much bigger than I'm used to, she's small, even for a woman. Broad shoulders, strong chin, big hands and feet, these are all common characteristics of a male.

Strong enough to fight with, small enough to dodge with.

The men fall, one by one, blood leaking out of their noses, eyes, fingers broken and twisted, arms mangled.

I walk to the edge of the alley, grabbing Trevor as he struggles to get free from the unconscious man. I throw him up against the wall He squirms in my grasp, "She's off limits."

He paused, fear clear on his features. "W-what?"

"K, off limits."

"K?" He mumbled, "What are you-"

I punch him in the face, twice shattering his nose. He screams, "Stop! Please!"

"You leave K alone?"

"Yes! Yes I promise!" he begs desperately, tears flowing down his cheeks.

"Go." I said, releasing him. He takes off, running home, leaving the rest of them here. I crouch down next to the first man, Kevin was his name. I grab his head between my hands, twisting it hard to the side.

His neck is broken, he's dead. Just a few more thugs to go.

Once they're all dead, it'll be time to take the kid home.

Or, he could clean up a little more of the city tonight, all these years have done nothing but make these streets more filthy. High school never had the level of drug dealing or gang activity that it did now days.

But, he didn't have his trench coat, or his fedora, or his grappling gun. His fedora and gun were at K's house. If he was going to take her all the way there, he might as well let the kid have a nap.

Long day for her, already the other teenagers at her school feared her after she broke Trevor's arm, and now an attempted gang rape, set up by Trevor himself. It was a pathetic attempt by the boy to regain his feelings of being the alpha male in his school.

Fine, I'll take the girl home then.

When I get to the girl's apartment, I allow myself a few moments to look around. A few pictures frame the walls, old pictures.

They're all of Charlotte and K, when she was a lot younger, three, maybe four. That's the oldest she could be, there are no other pictures. Charlotte stopped caring, at some point. And K clearly didn't care about Charlotte.

I remember Charlotte, working with her for awhile. After everyone else quit, she stuck around, for awhile. She was different than any woman I had met. She wasn't cheap. She covered herself completely, loose fitting red jeans, black long sleeves shirt, and a dark red hoodie, the hood always up. A black lower face mask, covering her chin, lips, and nose, but leaving her eyes and forehead in clear view. Back when she was Archer, a sure shot marksman, deadly accuracy with a bow and arrow.

Until she admitted to having feelings for me, I never suspected her capable of that kind of feeling. I told her flat out, I did not feel the same way, and she needed to put ideas like that out of her head. I didn't see her for several years, until Comedian died.

That was when I saw k for the first time.

She had been a cute kid, scared, but protective enough of her mother to face the scary man with the creepy mask. She was brave, an admirable quality. She was not completely pathetic, not then and not now.

I sat down on the couch, taking the shoe box out form under the couch, and pulled out the old photo of the Watchmen.

What had become of all of them? Dan, Laurie, and that filthy liberal Adrian. Where were they?

That was the last thing on my mind before I peeled the mask off, shoving the shoe box under the couch, and fell asleep.


	8. Teams

When I woke up, the first thing to hit me was the fact I don't remember how I got home. All I remembered was school, walking home, oh no, someone pulled me into an alley, and then-

I shot up, falling down from the couch, and hitting my head on the edge of the coffee table.

_Not exactly reaction hoped for._

I jumped up, on my feet, putting my hand over my mouth as I got the sudden urge to hurl chunks. I put my other hand on the edge of the couch to steady myself, and my fingers brushed against something.

I looked down, seeing the mask clutched tight in my fist. "No!" I protested.

_Could say thank you, saved your life._

I tossed the mask onto the coffee table, sinking down on the couch as my stomach settled. I remembered putting on the mask… and then nothing.

"What did you do!?" I groaned, clutching the sides of my head.

_Turn on news, bound to mention it._

A sinking feeling entered the pit of my stomach. Why would the news cover it? I grabbed the remote, turning the TV on, and flipped to the news channel I normally watched.

"And as mortgage debt is at an all time high, the questioned pushed is whether Bush plans to do anything about this issue if he comes to office. Bush is saying the complete contrary about where economists say our nation is headed.. More on this interview at nine." Said the anchorman. "Now, we take you live on the scene to our reporter Jessica, who's tackling a very juicy story. New serial killer on the loose?"

A pretty girl popped up on the screen, right next to an alley that was all to familiar, "Thank you Jack, I'm here on scene at what police are calling an alarming sight. Seven suspected murderers and rapists were found dead in an alley this morning, with a calling card left on scene. When asked about it, police denied relevance."

"Oh my God." I said, turning it off, running my hand through my hair. "You… You killed them-"

_They were trying to rape you. They were organized, which means they've done this before, to other girls. Difference is, no one rescued those girls. They didn't get away. Are you going to tell me that the punishment was uncalled for?_

I was silent for a moment, "Okay… okay I'll admit, they deserved that."

_Good. You're learning._

"Learning?" I whispered.

_Learning fast. Good learner, does not fight truth. You seek truth, you seek reason._

"What the hell are you trying to teach me?" I asked, not sure how it was possible I could speak out loud at this point, I would have thought I'd be paralyzed with fear by now.

_You don't just accept things the way they are, you fight against the system set for you by liars and killers. We'll fight them together, with lies and killing._

"No!" I protested, "I, I don't kill people!"

_That's what I'll do._

"I won't let you." I said, with a surprisingly strong voice. Where I got this sudden courage from, I don't know.

_Many girls fell into the fate you nearly did. Will you condemn the many others who won't be offered a savior?_

I was silent for a moment, remembering the helplessness I had felt when they touched me. How I should have been screaming, but I was to afraid to try. How pathetic I had been, without this voice in my head telling me how to fight them off, then taking over when I couldn't anymore.

"_What _are you expecting me to do?" I demanded. "I'm a kid! I'm only fifteen! How can you even ask me to do this!?"

_Because I know you can. And I know you will. The country I fought for is even worse off now. You can make a difference, you can help people, the people you see everyday._

"They haven't done anything for me!" I growled, "I don't owe them anything!"

_That's probably what those people thought when they saw you being dragged into an alley._

I had nothing to say to that. I couldn't think of an argument. I could say I didn't want to risk my life, but really, what life did I have left? I have no father, no mother, one nerdy friend, and absolutely nothing going for me at all. No courses in school I'm good in, my job is a joke, and because I missed a whole day of it, I'm probably fired anyways.

"Just… give me… just give me a little time, okay?' I asked. "This is… a lot."

_Understandable, surprised you are not crying form shock of yesterday's encounter with that scum._

"I'm a bit harder to crack than that." I explained.

_Good._

"Hey, who are you anyways? I mean, I know your a voice in my head, but do you have a name or something?"

_Rorschach._

Did not see that coming.

**ELSEWHERE IN THE CITY:**

Detective Todd looked over pictured form last nights murder, frowning. Several men, all with deep criminal pasts, some suspected murderers, some suspected rapists, all killed. Personally, he was happy to see the scum go, but it was his job to figure out who and why.

On a few of the bodies, he had noticed their pants had been unbuttoned, and unzipped. The minute he put two and two together, he felt a grin pull over his face. "Looks like they bit off a little more than they could chew."

"Who did?"

Todd looked over his shoulder, seeing one of the older officers standing behind him. "The 'victims' from last night. I think they were getting together to nab a girl, and picked one up that had one damn good slot shot."

The officer, Paul, took one of the pictures, eyes wide, "Son, I haven't seen murder scenes like these in nearly a decade."

Detective Todd raised an eyebrow, "The style is familiar?"

Officer Paul nodded, "Yep, if this is who I think it is kid, you're in for one hell of an investigation."

"Okay, now I'm curious."

Paul gave the picture back, "I haven't seen that since the masks were around."

"You mean the Watchmen?" Todd asked, eyes wide.

"One in particular, Rorschach." Paul said solemnly. "And if I'm right, which I usually am, then this means, he's back."

Detective Todd paused, not knowing how to react. He had never been trained for something like this, by the time he had joined the force, masks were long gone. "Well, should we report this?"

Paul just laughed, but there was no humor in it. "And tell them what? That an officer who's three months from retirement sees similarities between a crime scene that happened last night and crime scenes that happened over seven years ago? No. Until there's another attack like this one, we keep our mouths shut, or else we'll be laughed out of the force. Got it?"

"But, what makes you think that this will happen again?" Detective Todd asked.

"If it _is _Rorschach, then it'll happen again in less than a week. If not, then I was wrong." Paul concluded.

"Which you never are."

"Never. Twenty years on the job's given me some damn fine instincts son."

Todd nodded, "So, this Rorschach guy, he was a criminal, right?"

"According to the law, yes. According to me, no." Paul explained, "He got the bad guys the way we couldn't, he put 'em out permanently. Funny thing was, he was never wrong either, he had a special way of figuring out who was guilty."

"Instincts?"

"No, he broke their fingers to make them talk." Paul chuckled. "I caught him once, regulation was to bring him in, but I just let him walk away. Didn't even call it in."

Detective Todd's eyes widened in shock. "That's not a confession you want to be making right when you're about to retire Paul."

Paul shrugged, "Way I see it, he was one damn fine vigilante, but he would have made one crummy cop. He wouldn't have stuck to regulation, would have ended up killing anyone he grabbed. But still, sometimes I wonder what would have happened if the masks never became illegal, if they were still around today."

"What do you think would have happened?"

Paul got a distant look in his eyes, one Todd saw often. Paul had been Todd's mentor when he was just a rookie. And if there was one lesson you learn the minute you come into the force, it's the fact that after al that training in police academy, the hours they spend going over the self defense, and the book work, and all the laws you memorize, the rights you read, everything, the minute you get here, you realize, you know absolutely nothing. Police academy does nothing to prepare you for the horrors you see on the job. All the children, teenagers, and even infants you see murdered and violated in the darkest of way.

Another thing Todd learned, was that whenever Paul looked like that, he was remembering something truly horrible that he had encountered on his job. "What would be different? Well, we'd have a lot less crime. That's for sure."

Todd just nodded. He knew better than to ask Paul what he had seen that made him want the masks back so much.

Paul suddenly brightened a little, "Well, seems as though I might just get my wish."

"What?"

Paul pointed at the TV hanging in the corner. It was on mute, as usual, so as to not disturb the officers while they did paperwork, but they saw the heading below the anchorman, and Detective Todd immediately felt his stomach do a flip flop.

The Keene Act Being Given A Second Thought?

Todd immediately grabbed the remote, un-muting the TV and the man's voice was immediately heard. "Is the government thinking of repealing the Keene Act? Yes, they are. After looking back over records of past actions of every mask, all of them except a popular vigilante known as Rorschach's were in the normal protocols of uniformed officers."

Every police officer and detective in the room was solely focused on the TV, paperwork neglected.

"Seeing as Rorschach is now believed to be dead, Congress is moving to have the law repealed. When asked why, Congressman John Cane had this to say."

The camera switched to show an elderly man, sitting in a chair, staring at the camera intently. "Crime has escalated to the point where our police force simply can't handle it anymore. Our men are out manned, and out gunned. The masks were overstepping the law, but with certain tweaks to their methods, I believe it's possible to work with them, or even recruit them. We need someone we can trust, some one who's used to masks and how they do things, running a small team of them. We believe, we have just the man for such a job."

The camera changed again, showing none other than Adrian Veidt sitting there. "I've been offered the position, a very important position, of recruiting, and training, a new team of young masks. And I am more than willing to accept such an offer. I've been a mask, I've worked with masks, so really, there is no one better to seek out others and recruit them. If Congress repeals the Keene act, then I will put all of my time, money, and effort into forging a team of young heroes, with the soul purpose of defending New York against this higher level of crime."

A voice form behind the camera spoke, "So, if you are offered this position if the government repeals the Keene Act, do you have any names, off the top of your head, that you might recruit?"

"Cole Veidt."

"Your own son?" The reporter asked, astonished. "You'd be willing to put him in harms way like that?"

"No. I would drill every skill into him I know, and only when I know he is ready would I ever put him on the streets. That alone, should tell everyone, that if I'm willing to stake my son's safety on the idea that my training would be enough to keep him alive in any situation, then anyone else in the team would be equally safe."

The camera shifted back to the anchorman, "Well folks, that was Adrian Veidt, possibly going to be leading a team of young heroes soon. Other news, the stock market-"

As soon as the anchorman abandoned the subject of the Keene Act, every Officer and Detective jumped up, shouting at the TV, protesting the idea of masks.

If Rorschach was back, he had his work cut out for him.


	9. Our World's About To Break

My dog, I finally got around to naming her, Penny, went into labor early in the morning, and I quickly took her to see Mrs. Brendan, and she promised me she'd watch her and help her while I was at school.

The minute I walked into school, I saw Trevor. I just stared at him at first, not really sure what to do. What had happened after I put that mask on? What did Trevor see?

Trevor looked up, seeing me staring at him, and immediately turned away from me, speed walking in the opposite direction._ Told you, boy is coward._

I shook my head, mumbling a quick, "Shut up."

_He will never bother you again. Still have not said thank you._

I paused, "Okay, thank you for saving me. Is that what you wanted to here? Or do you just want me to admit that if you weren't there, I'd be dead. What do you want from me!?"

The boy standing next to me gave me a weird look, before walking away. "Great, now the school is going to think I'm a psycho."

_Let them think. Does not matter._

"Doesn't matter to you." I mumbled, making sure no one heard this time. "My sanity is actually something I hold in value, okay? Especially since it turns out I might have lost it."

_You are not crazy._

"I'm talking to you, and you're answering, I'm crazy." I concluded, opening my locker and taking out my books. "And God knows what'll happen to me now." I continued, feeling the weight of the situation sinking in. "Especially since you're obviously calling the shots."

_Will tell you same thing I told Walter, you will thank me._

"Walter?" I asked. "Who is-? Walter Kovacs?! As in Rorschach?"

_No, I am Rorschach. But yes, was talking about Walter Kovacs._

"But he… he was my…"

_Your what?_

"Look, you better start spilling everything you know about Walter Kovacs, now." I growled.

_Willing to skip school?_

"Love to." I growled, slamming my locker shut and making a bee line for the door.

_Good, will take you to see friend._

"What kind of friend?" I asked, curious.

_Old friend, knew Walter well. Been meaning to speak with him._

"Fine." I said, stepping out onto the street, "Just point the way."

_Need costume first, mask, trench coat, suit, scarf-_

"No." I said firmly.

_What?_ Rorschach sounded surprised. As if he didn't know that I was capable of saying no, of being so firm. He had a lot to learn.

"I'm not wearing a trench coat, or a suit, or a scarf. It's not even autumn yet."

_Need to be in costume-_

"And I will be." I promised, "But for once, shut up and let me take care of it."

It wasn't hard to break into Jerry's Pawn and Gun, the security was always pathetic. I often came here when I needed things to make ends meet. Stealing from them was simple enough, and the things I always took were never missed.

Like the leather greaser jacket that's been there for five months that I conveniently never registered.

_Leather? You are not in a biker gang, you're a hero._

"I'm not wearing a trench coat."

_Nothing wrong with trench coat. Wore it for years._

"Well, I'm not you."

_It's getting dark out, now is the time we leave._

"Got it."

I pulled on the jacket, zipping it up and pulling the collar down carefully, very grateful that while I was changing, the voice wasn't there. I slipped the mask on, and the fedora over it. Surprisingly, there was no black out this time.

_Will not take over, as long as you do as told._

"Understood." I said evenly. "Now, where's this friend?"

_Walk straight for eight blocks, then turn left._

"Okay."

* * *

Okay dudes, I know this is super short, but bare with me. Kay?

Oh, and am I portrayin Rorschach right? I figured he might not talk to her very much at first, because although she doesn't look much like one, he hates females.

And... next chapter will be better. I swear upon the New 52 version of Watchmen comics.


	10. I Was Standing On My Own

Dan walked up to his apartment, pausing at the door, looking at the handle. It had been kicked open. Memories flashed through Dan's mind, memories of his old friend, breaking into his house whenever he needed something.

Dan grunted, opening his front door, and walking inside, looking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever robber was stupid enough to break into his house. He searched every room, stopping in the kitchen, to see Rorschach, leaning again his kitchen table. Surprisingly not eating his beans.

"R-Rorschach?" Dan asked, afraid of the answer.

"Been a long time Dan." Came the rasped reply. What the… Rorschach had a much deeper voice than that, and Rorschach's mask was safe with-

"What the Hell!? K!" Dan scolded, turning on the light to get a better view of the figure. Black leather jacket, boot cut denim jeans, and Rorschach's mask and fedora.

"Well you figured that out pretty quickly. You really were a detective back in the day, weren't you?" K asked, still making her voice raspy. "Still gaining weight though I see."

"How did you… K, why the hell are you running around in Rorschach's old costume?" Dan asked.

"That's why you gave it to me, isn't it?" She asked, "I'm not stupid Dan, you give me his old stuff, and not a full week later, the Keene Act is up for grabs."

Dan sighed, "That part was all Adrian, he's got unbelievable connections in the government. There's no questions about it, the Keene Act is getting repealed."

The voice in K's mind spoke up, _Veidt couldn't have sighed his death warrant any clearer. He's made it simple for us to retaliate._

K grunted, "Understood, from now on, you need to call me Rorschach."

Dan shook his head, "K, look I understand why you're doing this, but you shouldn't. From what Adrian's told me, this team he's putting together, it's very… limited."

"He's got a list already?" K asked, "No exceptions?"

"None." Dan said, "He's been very insistent about who's on it."

"Very well." K said, "Looks like I'll be on my own then, unless you plan on seizing the opportunity."

Dan sighed again, "Look, there's two reasons why that can't happen. For starters, I'm not exactly a bachelor anymore."

_Still with that tramp Laurie? Surprising._

"Laurie still hanging around, or do you have another bimbo?" I rasped.

"Hey!" He snapped, "Watch your- hey, how did you know… uh, never mind, just… watch your mouth."

K caught sight of a picture frame on the far wall, Dan and a woman she assumed was Laurie, standing behind two teenagers. One boy, one girl. The boy was a mirror image of his father, from the way his pressed his shoulders forward, to the big glasses on his face, and finally the odd hairstyle Dan seemed to barely pull off. The girl did look like her mother, but you could see hints of Dan in her face, her eye color, a light dust of freckles on the bridge of her nose, and the way her node seemed to come to a blunt point. All in all, they were both very attractive.

K felt Rorschach stir a bit, stress and something else radiating off of him. If she had to guess, probably betrayal, maybe jealousy.

_Don't even __**try **__that kid._

K fought back the urge to smirk, someone was in denial.

"Sure Dan. Didn't answer question."

Dan paused a moment, before he chuckled, "You're a lot like him you know, your Dad."

The voice inside my head went silent, but K could feel that he was deep in thought. Even though this voice seemed to know a lot about K, he didn't know everything about her. He didn't know who her father was, or why Dan knew him. She decided to keep it that way.

K was silent for a moment, and Dan continued, "We were friends you know, and-"

"Don't care." K growled, "Just tell me the other reason why I can't strike out on my own."

Dan sighed, "Because, you're already on the list."

…

K didn't hear anything from the voice for a few seconds, just immeasurable rage and murderous intent coming off of it's presence in her mind.

"Thank you Dan, good bye." K left quickly, not wanting to freak out in front of him. She ran to her apartment, not stopping at any corners, until she burst into the door of her apartment, collapsing on the ground, spurting, tearing the mask off.

Finally, the voice spoke, screamed actually, _VEIDT! NEW LOW, EVEN FOR HIM! I will NOT tolerate this!_

She whimpered, grabbing her head, the emotions surging through her head, crashing on the walls of her skull, and bouncing back with twice the momentum.

_FILTHY LIBERAL! WHAT HE DID TO ME WASN'T ENOUGH! NO, HE HAS TO GO AND DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS!_

"Please…" K mumbled, digging her nails into her head, "It… hurts."

The voice immediately died down, but the angry was still there. The pain only got less, never subsided. _Sorry._

Did he just apologize?

_Should sleep, have a long day tomorrow, school, work, and patrol. Busy schedule._

K sighed, "Yeah, busy."

K paused, not wanting to ask the forbidden question K was sure would make him explode in anger like he had moments ago. "So uh… I'm supposed to be on this list Veidt is making?"

… _Yes, why?_

"If he offers-"

_He will. He's like a baby, if he doesn't get what he wants, he pitches a royal fit._

"Okay, you clearly don't like him, so when he offers, what do I do?" K asked, biting her lower lip.

… There was a long silence, before he finally said. _Tell him yes. His methods need further investigation, if you're up for it._

"Definitely."

_So, you will have school, job, team responsibilities, and solo work. You still understand?_

"Oh…" K mumbled. "I guess…"

_Sleep on it. Need sleep._

"Right." K put the mask back under the couch, in the small cardboard box, curling up on the couch, and drifting off to sleep.

**TWO WEEKS LATER:**

Blending in and out of Rorschach's persona required a certain level of a morality call. Sure, the first week back to school made me tempted to pull out the mask, and put it on, releasing hell on anyone who disrespected me, but good for me, in the short four years my mother gave a damn about me, she managed to bust some form of a conscience into my head. Cole knew something was up, that much I knew he understood.

Cole wasn't to happy that I was being more secretive than usual, and I had a feeling that Rorschach's friend Dan had blabbed to Adrian, who had blabbed to his son. Cole knew I had donned the Rorschach costume, and he was probably happy about that.

I wasn't the only one changing. Cole was getting stronger, I could see muscles poking out from his polo's now. I could see he was getting faster too, his typing had always been like lightning, but now, it seemed that his entire body was a speed machine. Trevor had left me alone since the night he set me up, but now his entire focus was on Cole. Trevor had tried to shove him into a locker two days ago, and Cole had done a freaking _back flip _in the middle of the hallway, sailing right over Trevor's head, and had walked away.

The truth was setting in pretty hard, Cole didn't need my protection anymore. I don't think he ever did.

After one week of school, I had decided enough was enough. I wasn't normal anymore, I didn't need school. So I dropped out, and picked up an extra shift at work.

Surprisingly, I hadn't been fired. Once my boss found out what happened to me, he actually insisted I take a few days off, with pay. Guess he wasn't as much of a bastard as I thought. I actually have a feeling that the glares he was getting from the only other female worker were the reason he was sympathizing though.

Rorschach talked every now and then, mostly on patrol, telling me how to fight. Sometimes he would insist I trained, have me run up and down the streets, insisting I run faster every time I slowed down. Then he taught me to jump roof tops. Yeah, that was a joke.

***flashback***

I stood on the edge of the roof, "Are you sure?"

_I have done this countless times. You are lighter than I used to be, will have no difficulty getting over this alley._

I took a deep breath, "Aright."

I took a few steps back, rushing forward and jumping over the side. At the last possible moment, fear took over, and I grabbed the edge of the fire escape, yanking myself to collide with it. I clutched it like I was hanging onto dear life, staring down at the ground, about ten stories beneath me.

_What the- why did you grab the edge!?_

"Because I don't wanna fall!"

_Let go of the edge, and flip over to the other side. If you do it right, should land on the roof._

"… No!"

***present***

Let's just say that didn't get me any brownie points with him.

Five days after I dropped out of school, Cole showed up at my apartment. He wasn't the same kid I remembered defending from Trevor. The old Cole wore plaid button up shirts, and corduroys. He always had his hair in whatever style he woke up with, he ran his fingers through it sometimes, but most of the time it was in a bed head/tousled kind of sway. He used to talk like an adult, it was never '_what's up_?' it was '_how are you_?' he never once said anything that made him seem like a teenager, he always just talked like a computer. His sarcasm never sounded like sarcasm, and he hardly ever scoffed or rolled his eyes.

It didn't like this new Cole. New Cole showed up at my doorstep at two in the morning, right as I was getting home from work. He was wearing a wife beater under a blue hoodie, and blue jeans with holes in the knees. The minute I opened the door for him, he just jerked his chin at me, "What's up?"

I glared at him, and then slammed the door in his face.

He was quiet for about two seconds, then knocked on the door again, "Come on K, you've been absent from school for a whole week, we need to talk."

I yanked open the door again, "I'm not absent Cole, I dropped out."

He raised an eyebrow, "You know you need to get an education-"

"Finish that sentence and I'll throw you out that window." I snapped, pointing to the one at the end of the hall. "Now what the hell do you want Veidt?"

He shrugged, "Look I just… can I come in?"

I snorted, stepping aside to let him walk in. "Just don't expect a tray of _chocolates _set out for ya."

He chuckled a little, "K, the entire reason I came here was to get away from trays of expensive candy set out in front of me."

He flopped down on my couch, and I slumped down next to him, "So why are you here?"

He sighed, "Look, I just… I'm scared, okay?"

I raised an eyebrow, "Scared? Of what?"

He shook his head a little, "I'm just, suddenly, my dad just starts cracking down on me with training, and I'm expected to be the new Ozymandias, when he used to not care about what I did."

I pulled my knees up to my chest, watching him closely.

"That's the great part about being a spoiler rich kid." He mumbled, "Your parents don't care."

I gave him a look, "Wow Cole, that must be just, really terrible. Honestly, I have no idea how you survived in that huge mansion with all those butlers and maids, with all that five star food, and expensive toys."

He held up his hands in surrender, "Alright, it's not a contest, I get it, you've had a much harder life."

"Damn straight."

"But I just… I need a friend right now K." Cole sighed. "The Keene Act is getting repealed, it's a sure thing. This team Dad is putting together, I don't know anyone on it, except-"

"Me?" I finished.

Cole looked at me sadly, "Yeah, just you. You're the only one on the list that I know."

I frowned, "Whop else is on the list?"

He shrugged, "Well, there's these two kids from the nicer part of town, and this one guy from foster care. I asked Dad what the method was for picking them, he wouldn't talk about it."

I paused, "Those two kids, were they siblings?"

He nodded, "Yeah, brother and sister?"

"Did they live on Williams St?"

He nodded, "Yeah, how'd you know?"

I shook my head, "I know what the method for picking them is. It's the same reason that you and me are on the list. We related to the former Watchmen."

His eyes widened, "So those two kids-"

"Fraternal twins of NiteOwl and Silk Specter." I explained, "And whoever that boy is in the foster system, I'm willing to bet he's got a connection to either Comedian, or Dr. Manhattan."

Cole sighed, "I don't know why my Dad chose now to make this team K, but I don't want to… upset him. He's finally proud of me."

I bit my tongue gently, before releasing it, scraping over my front taste buds. "I know the feeling."

Cole raised an eyebrow, "But, you never met your dad."

I stiffened, doing a quick mind sweep to make sure Rorschach wasn't around. Nope. Where he went when he wasn't in my thoughts, I didn't know. Not sure I wanted to, or if I would be able to understand it.

"Feels like he's still around sometimes." I mumbled, "Parts of him anyways."

Cole stared at me, before speaking up, "There have been sightings of a masked vigilante in a leather jacket running around your neighborhood. You know anything about that?"

I shrugged, "Just taking the mask for a test run, that's all."

Cole seemed to let it go, and we sat in silence for a moment, before he broke it again. "Hey, K? When my dad offers you the position, will you take it?"

I paused, considering it. Rorschach seemed pretty intent on accepting the offer, and I couldn't really refuse him anything. He'd haunt me until I accepted. "Well, I can't let your nerdy rich ass on a team alone with people who could probably tear you to shreds, right?"

He laughed, "God I've missed you so much, K."

I smirked, "You'd be the first."


End file.
